killthescene

“I can’t do this anymore.”           The words flow through my mind rapidly, repeatedly, and as I awake each morning, each night more restless than the last, I feel weak.  I feel my pool of strength ran dry long ago and I am unable to create any more for myself, as the universe is unable to create energy, and I climb out of bed, weighed down by the pressure to not give up I set upon myself.   “No future, no love, no life.” The mantra created to distract my brain from giving up, shutting down from malnutrition, horrendous sleeping patterns, and the constant berating from myself, my parents, my teachers, everyo

no place no time no life no love no light free and easy no air no thoughts no start no sound no stop free and easy alone with you free and easy barely beating barely breathing barely here free and easy

i think we get too caught up in the operation definitions and don't see everything that's really around us.  like how there are only twenty six letters in the alphabet and eventually you'll run out of grains of sand to count.  how every word used to define a word in the dictionary is defined by other words and you just end up in circles when you're going around the world.  and the world is just some unimportant speck in the universe yet we all feel we're more important that everybody else.  we hide behind our money and status and use them to try to ignore our mortality and somehow we forget to feel fallible.  we forget that the only reason th

you feel ugly as the water leaks leaving stains in the ceiling as you wonder how you wound up here miserable in a loveless life full of "i'm sorry's" as he begs you to take him back and you vow that it's the last time you let it happen that you'll leave tomorrow but tomorrow never comes in your dreams you hallucinate happiness though you've never known what it is and you hope that you'll be saved but you know what bullshit all that knight-in-shining-armor stuff is so you sit on the floor in your now hardly furnished apartment selling everything short of your soul to keep a roof over your head and your pray for it to be over for

this is our perfection wasted far past our one last chance nothing is sound nothing is static nothing isn't nothing anymore this is our perfection wasted on an imperfectly imperfect world the screams aren't sound the screams aren't static the screams aren't screams anymore this is our perfection wasted and the flowers cease to bloom through the crackless concrete and you cease to be beautiful through the heartless world beauty isn't sound beauty isn't static beauty isn't beauty anymore this is my perfection wasted you are not luminous any longer and you walk past the children crying in the streets and you walk past the b

"You should eat." I hate those words.  They think I don't know when I should eat. I know it all perfectly well, I just decide not to. I know I should eat a great deal more than I do.  Considering my low blood sugar and possible anemia. They don't understand.  How could they? "I don't have a problem," I repeat, "I'm not anorexic.  I eat." I do eat.  I know I don't eat enough.  In my deformed mind the food that barely sustains my existence is much more than I need. It doesn't mean I have a problem.  I don't have a problem.  It can't happen to me.  It isn't possible.  Spiraling out of control isn't my style anymore.  I know what I'm doing

A lot of people say they hate hospitals.  They smell and feel like death. I hate hospitals.  To me, they smell and feel like pain. I can't even comprehend the pain I should have been in that night, drowned out by an overwhelming feeling of nothingness. Liquid charcoal.  I couldn't believe people come up with such things.  I couldn't believe anything.  I couldn't believe I let myself get so out of control.   "It helps absorb toxins in your liver.", I overheard the nurse say.   Sitting there.  Pretending to feel strong enough.  Pleading with my father, "How long until I can go home?" Liquid charcoal is perhaps the most disgusting thing in

See me starve myself baby? I do it all for you. Because maybe, one day you'll think i'm beautiful. If I were thinner smarter prettier better... Because I'm not good enough. I'll never be good enough. But I keep hoping that maybe, one day you'll realize how amazing I am on the inside. If only I was better on the outside.

"Why don't you just come over?" It's amazing how those six simple words have changed my life forever. I was "in love". As "in love" as you can be at thirteen. But what the fuck do I know about love... Sitting on a bed, making out. "Wanna get high?", he asks. I roll my eyes, "And destroy my repuation by becoming intoxicated?  Oh, my Heavens, no." Reputation my ass.  For what?  Skipping school and failing classes?  He seems to get angry, and for what, some innocent sarcasm?  What an ass. We continue our makeout session. His hand goes up my shirt.   Pulling away, angry, I yell, "What the fuck do you think you're doing!" "Come on bab